


Cold Nights, Hot Loins

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5386397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a Christmas party, Ned becomes a bit jealous when he sees the attention other men are paying to Catelyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Nights, Hot Loins

**Author's Note:**

> Written for GameofShipsChallenges Countdown to Wintertown.
> 
> I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

Ned was not really one for parties. He never had much to say in the way of small talk; if it were up to him, he would have always chosen an evening at home with his family over going out and spending time with comparative strangers.  But he felt that he owed it to Jon Arryn, who had mentored him all through law school, and so here he and Cat were at Jon’s Christmas party. Cat seemed to be having a good time, though; she was always much more at ease talking to people than he was. And he—well, he liked seeing Jon, at least.

Jon had led him off to get food, and now, as he returned to the living room, he looked for Cat. She was on the other side of the room, talking to Lysa, and he made his way towards them through the crowd. As he got near to them, though, a conversation caught his attention.

“Quite a sight.” The speaker was a man Ned knew vaguely, as was his companion; he thought that they might work at Jon’s firm. “I’ve always had a weakness for redheads.”

“I know the one is Jon’s wife, of course,” said his companion. “And the other…?”

The first man chuckled in what anyone would consider a very annoying way. “Believe it or not, she’s Ned Stark’s wife.”

The look on the other man’s face was equally annoying. “Are we talking about the same Ned Stark?”

“Pretty much my reaction,” said the first man. “How did Mr. Serious land a beautiful woman”—at that moment Cat threw back her head and laughed in response to something Lysa said—“with a sense of humor?”

“What a waste,” said the other man. They both laughed then and started talking about something else, and Ned continued on his way, fuming.

True, this wasn’t the first time he’d heard comments of that sort. He knew that Cat was beautiful and charming and that he was fairly plain-looking and not the most entertaining conversationalist. He occasionally wondered himself why she’d chosen him. But that didn’t mean that he liked hearing other men say that she was out of his league or that he liked seeing them look at her the way those two had been looking.

He arrived at her side then, and she looked over and smiled at him. “Hello, love.”

“Hi,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her perhaps a little closer than he usually would in public. “Hello, Lysa.” Lysa favored him with a nod.

“We’ve just been talking about Christmas plans,” Cat said. “Edmure said he’s coming up—I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier.”

“That’s good news,” Ned said. The three of them talked on for a while, and, as Cat smiled and leaned against him, Ned almost forgot his earlier irritation.

“There you are, Ned.” Jon had appeared at his side. “I’ve been looking for you. Could you give me a hand?” He lowered his voice. “It’s Robert.”

Ned barely had to ask. “Is he drunk?”

“You could say that,” said Jon.

Ned sighed. “I’ll be right back,” he told Cat. He followed Jon out of the room, shaking his head over his old friend’s behavior. While Ned had never approved of the extent to which Robert drank, he had once thought that it was something that Robert would outgrow with age. Now that they were in their forties, though, that seemed unlikely. Ned had tried talking to Robert often enough, but his words never seemed to get through to him.

Between the two of them, Ned and Jon managed to move everyone’s coats off the bed in the guest room, to get Robert to lie down there, and to convince him that he was in no state to drive home. Robert’s wife, Cersei, who was clearly a few drinks shy of sobriety herself, seemed unconcerned; she said that she’d get her brother to give her a ride home. Things finally settled, Ned headed back into the living room, thinking that it was getting late enough that he and Cat could probably make their exit soon without being rude. The thought lifted his mood considerably, and he was feeling quite good until he saw who was talking to Cat.

It was Petyr Baelish. The man had come to work as an accountant at Jon’s firm a little over a year ago, when Lysa had introduced them. “He lived next door to us growing up,” Cat had explained to Ned. “He had this ridiculous crush on me.” She’d shaken her head and laughed, dismissing the whole thing, but it had been plain to Ned from the first that Petyr Baelish’s attraction to Cat was not a thing of the past. It was in the way he looked at her—the expression “undressing her with his eyes” had never been more applicable—and in the way that he was, right now, reaching out to grip her hand as he talked. And it was very much in the words that reached Ned’s ears as he approached them.

“You look so gorgeous tonight, Cat,” he was saying. “Hard to believe, looking at you, that we’re not still living on River Street.”

“Oh, it’s been a long time since then,” Cat said. She pulled her hand from his grasp and looked at her watch. “It’s getting really late. I should find—oh, Ned, here you are!” She wound her hand into his. “I was just saying to Petyr that we should really be going.”

“I think that would be a very good idea,” Ned said.

He was not a violent man, but the smile that appeared on Petyr Baelish’s face was one that he wanted to slap off. “It’s a shame,” Baelish said, “for such a lovely woman to be leaving so early.” And Ned might have started towards him at that if Cat hadn’t given his hand a quick, tight squeeze.

“I’m afraid we have the kids to get back to,” Cat said. She turned to Ned. “Should we go find Lysa and Jon and say goodbye?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak without snapping at Baelish. “Well, good night, Petyr.”

“Good night,” Baelish said. He reached for Cat’s hand again. “It’s been much too long. Could we maybe—”

“There you are!” Lysa had appeared beside Baelish, and Ned had never been more grateful for his sister-in-law. “I haven’t seen you all night, Petyr. Where have you been?”

“Around,” Baelish said, still looking at Cat in that disgusting way.

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” Lysa said. “Here, let’s go find somewhere to sit down.” She put a hand on his arm, and Cat took a few steps back.

“We’ve got to be heading home, Lysa,” she said. “It was wonderful to see you. I’ll call you about Christmas eve, all right?”

“Yes, all right,” Lysa said, not seeming to be paying very much attention. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Cat said. They collected their coats, found Jon and said their goodbyes to him as well, and then, finally, they were in the car driving home.

It hadn’t been a very good evening, to say the least. With the two men he’d heard talking and then with Petyr Baelish, it seemed that everyone had designs on his wife. It wasn’t that he doubted Cat for a moment—he knew that she found Baelish’s attentions as unwelcome as he did—but he still didn’t like it. He didn’t like the thought that other people had so little respect for their marriage. He didn’t like being reminded that Cat could certainly have had any other man she wanted. And he didn’t like that these men had made him feel like this. He hated feeling jealous when he knew that there was no reason for it, when he knew that he and Cat had a wonderful marriage, when he knew that it was entirely unproductive. And yet here he was, sitting in the car and stewing over some looks and comments.

Cat turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I…it’s nothing.” What was the point in telling her?

Cat smiled. “I’ve heard that a few times too often from the kids to ever believe it. What is it?” He was still silent. “Is it Petyr?” He nodded, slowly, and she sighed. “Don’t worry about him, Ned. I agree that it’s very annoying. But you know that I would never—”

“I know,” he said quickly. “Believe me, I know, Cat. It’s just…I don’t like to see it. And it’s not just him. There were…I overheard two men talking...they were saying how beautiful you are…and how they couldn’t believe you were with me.”

“Well, what do they know?” Cat said. She rested her hand on his leg. “There are a lot of reasons I’m with you, Ned. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

“I know that too, Cat,” he said. “But when I hear things like that…you’re so amazing, Cat…and I know I shouldn’t but I just…” It was hard to put into words. “I know I’m being silly.”

“A bit,” Cat said. “I know how you feel, though. I don’t like seeing other women look at you that way.”

He almost laughed. “When do they do that?”

“Oh, it’s happened,” Cat said. “I remember when I was pregnant with Bran—we were at some party, and you did what you always do, you know, settled me down and made sure I was comfortable and that I was feeling well and that I had my non-alcoholic beverage. And then you went off to talk to someone for a minute, and some woman I didn’t even know turned to me and said, ‘Oh, he’s so sweet, could I borrow him?’ And it might have been the hormones talking, but I was just about ready to take her head off.” She smiled. “But then I just remind myself—they can look all they want, but I’m the one you’re taking home.”

This should have reassured him, but it only served to remind him of how incredible Cat was, of how absurd it sometimes seemed that she wanted him. They’d been friends first, thrown together by their shared grief after Brandon’s death, and when he’d first realized he was attracted to her he’d vowed that he wouldn’t say anything, certain that she would never return his feelings. When he’d thought that she was giving him looks, he’d told himself that he was imagining things. She’d been engaged to Brandon, after all, Brandon who turned heads, who made everyone laugh, who always knew what he was doing. But then she’d told him, point-blank, that she wanted to take things further, and now here they were with five kids and a dog. Yet he still couldn’t understand, sometimes, how he’d managed to be this lucky. “I just…sometimes…I don’t deserve you,” he said.

Cat raised her eyebrows. “Couldn’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“No one else seems to think so either,” Ned said as they pulled into their garage. He knew that he sounded self-pitying now, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You should have heard those men, Cat. They were laughing at the very idea of us.” They climbed out of the car and started for the house. “And that Petyr Baelish. The way he looks at you, Cat…I could barely stand to watch it…you can tell what he’s thinking about…” Inside the house now. He fell silent as they walked upstairs, not wanting to wake the kids, and Cat was silent too. When they reached their bedroom and closed the door, though, she turned to him, the expression on her face serious.

“Yes, I can tell what he’s thinking about,” she said. “And I don’t care. And I don’t care about those men you heard talking either. They don’t know anything about us, and Petyr’s just dreaming about something he will never have. It’s completely not worth thinking about. All right?” Ned nodded. “Good.”

He knew she was right—he knew it—and yet trying not to think about it only made him think about it more. As he sat down to take off his shoes, it seem like he couldn’t think about anything but the way those men had talked and the way Baelish had looked.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” He jumped and looked over at Cat, who was shaking her head. “All right then.” And with that, she stood up from her seat on the edge of the bed and yanked her dress over her head. In another few seconds she had discarded her bra and her underpants, and then there she was, entirely naked, and God, she was so beautiful.

“Look, Ned Stark,” she said. “They can talk all they want and they can look all they want, but you are the only one who gets to see this and the only one who gets to touch this and the only one who knows how to make me scream. And so you are going to forget about this whole evening and stop this ridiculous jealousy and take me to bed right now and fuck me until we can’t stand up. All right?”

Ned couldn’t get to her fast enough. He grabbed her and pushed her back onto the bed, kissing her fiercely. “God, Cat,” he groaned. “Need you…”

“You’ve got me,” Cat said. “I’m yours, Ned… _oh_.” He had moved his mouth to her neck, licking at the most sensitive spot. He felt her pulse speed up. “Get your clothes off.”

They both pulled at his clothes then, he cursing the buttons on his shirt, Cat tugging down his zipper and pulling his pants and his underwear off in one go. He began kissing her again, running his lips along her collarbone, sucking on her nipples, and her moans were the sweetest thing he had ever heard. “God, Ned… _oh_ …my Ned…need you…oh, God…”

Ned kissed over Cat’s stomach, pressing his lips to the lines left there from carrying their children, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin of her navel and drawing a loud gasp from her. And then he had his mouth between her legs and was kissing and licking at her clit over and over and over, and her moans were becoming so loud that a dim part of his mind worried about having the children burst in on them.

It seemed that Cat was having similar thoughts. She grabbed at his shoulders and gasped, “Stop…come up here and kiss me…” With his mouth pressed against hers they were both quieter, at least, although he couldn’t keep from groaning into the kiss when she ran her nails down his back. “Need you inside me, Ned,” she murmured against him, and she didn’t have to ask twice.

He pushed inside her, groaning, “My Cat,” as he did so, and they began to move together. They kept their lips pressed together, only breaking their kisses for instructions—“Faster, Ned, _please_ ”—and endearments—“My sweet, sweet Cat”—and then he could feel her tensing and tightening around him, and she moaned into his mouth as she came, and it sent him right over the edge.

He pulled her into his arms afterwards, stroking her beautiful hair, wondering vaguely why he’d been worried earlier that evening. “My Cat,” he murmured. “My love.”

Cat smiled up at him. “I love you, Ned,” she said. “And I’m always yours. And”—now her smile was positively wicked—“in a few minutes I want to do that again.”


End file.
